


A Day (Not) At The Races

by fantasticdrowse



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 1976, Fluff, No Ship, Pure, a day at the races era, adatr, freddie is ill, queen sickfic, sickfic (again)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 19:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasticdrowse/pseuds/fantasticdrowse
Summary: Sorry the title sucks lmao. Anyways, just fluff of the band taking care of Freddie. Pure. Fluff, you know, the usual.





	A Day (Not) At The Races

Maybe Freddie awoke with a headache, maybe he woke up because of it, but either way Freddie Mercury's head was pounding.

He assumed it was early in the morning, and tried to go back asleep despite the nausea in his stomach and how his whole body was shaking, shivering. He pulled his blankets closer to him although they were sweaty. He cursed his fucked immune system, and tried to sleep.

And maybe he would have slept, if Roger hadn't come into his room and turned on the light. 

"Fred. The whole band's in the kitchen, we're leaving in half an hour." He seemed angry, or at least annoyed, and Freddie didn't want to further that bad mood. He muttered a half-assed excuse and tried to ignore his head and his stomach and his throat and his whole body, honestly, and attempted to get up. He couldn't. 

"Jesus, Freddie, are you alright?" Any look of anger Roger had expressed was replaced by sympathy and concern. Freddie's face was pale, his bangs plastered to his face. His eyes were glazed over, no expression. He felt Freddie's forehead and quickly pulled his hand back. "Shit, Fred, you're burning up! Brian!" 

Freddie recoiled at the volume of the other's voice. "Think I've got something." Freddie squinted at Roger standing over him. Roger let out a laugh as Brian showed up in the door frame, John not far behind. 

"What's wrong?" he asked to Roger, paying no attention to Freddie. Roger gestured to the bed that held Freddie. Brian stepped over to the bed and sat down, feeling Freddie's forehead. He scrunched up his eyebrows and looked at Freddie "How long've you felt like this?" 

"Couple days, I suppose." he replied, looking blank.

"Fred! You should have said something!" Roger exclaimed. "John, 've we got any medicine?" 

John shrugged, "Probably, left over from when you were sick 2 weeks ago. I'll grab a thermometer, too." And with that, he left the room.

Roger put his head in his hands. "Oh shit, Freddie, I did this to you. 'M sorry." 

"It's alright. You didn't mean to." He shivered again. 

Brian got up. "We should take you to the living room once Deaky comes back, you need to recover."

As if on cue, John walked straight to Freddie and handed him a thermometer. Freddie seemed confused at first, not a good sign, but then put it under his tongue. Brian widened his eyes after seeing the number. "39.3 degrees. Shit, Fred, that's high."

Deaky put a bottle of tylenol on the bedside table. "This worked well when Rog was ill- if Freddie's got what he had it should be good."

Roger nodded. "Come on, we should get him to the living room."

Brian put his skinny arms under his shoulder, and noted how hot Freddie's arms were.

"'M cold. Rog can you get my blanket, please?" he said feebly.

Brian sighed. "You can't get any hotter, love, I'm sorry. No more than one blanket, alright?"

Freddie only shivered.

With John on one shoulder and Brian on the other, and Roger trailing behind with the blanket, the four walked slowly to the living room. Once they sat Freddie down, Brian got him ginger ale and water. "Drink up, you sweat a lot last night, and something tells me you're going to sweat more." Freddie did as he was told. Roger sat down on Freddie's opposite side. He brushed the damp hair out of his eyes and kissed the top of his head. Then he held a spoon containing the fever reducer out for him to take. Freddie hated how he was feeling more than the taste of the medicine. The three sat like that until Freddie had whispered a soft "thank you" into his ear and fell asleep and rested his head on Roger's shoulder. 

The album could wait.


End file.
